The Good Times
by Alice Arclight
Summary: Out in remotest space the commercial towing vehicle Nostromo works hard to haul another refinery home on time.
1. Chapter 1

Happier Times

_Candidates for First Officer promotion will undergo Warrant Officer status until rating a 'Satisfactory' from an evaluating Captain. - Section 11 Weyland-Yutani Fleet Regulations_

The commercial towing vehicle Nostromo reattached itself to the massive refinery and began to chug it's way out of an asteroid belt far far away from Earth. The hyper-space engines began to hum. It was the rare time when all seven of them happily worked together as a smoothly working organism. Light speed transition.

Ripley's voice smoothly echoed with the pre-hyper-space checklist throughout the ship. She had it memorized.

Parker knelt above the heat regulation system in the floor of the engine room.

He flipped the activation switches on the cap cylinder of the last cooling unit. One last button and his eyes reflected with satisfaction as it slid slowly down into the reactor. It felt right. After closing the lid and wiping it he stood up with satisfaction.

"Rawwwrrr!" he growled.

"Yowsaa, Mr. Parker" Brett responded. The assistant engineer's face reflected pure green as the last hint of red disappeared off the engine temperature display. The engines were at ready.

On the flight deck Lambert scrambled with a few final calculations but Ripley was not going to miss the interval.

"Navigation console?" Ripley said calmly.

Lambert did not respond.

They were ahead of schedule. She could 'feel' Parker bringing the engines up to power. They could all feel it…and it felt good. She could now 'see' the path home. She made her calculations to make the jump into the early window allotted to them by shipping control. She moved quickly

Kane watched with amused indifference. With Ripley acting as pilot-in-command during her evaluation there wasn't much for him to do. He knew how much Ripley irked Lambert but noticed the navigator ignored the warrant now. There was too much to do.

"Nav Con?" Ripley repeated her question. The curly haired brunette expected the navigation section's input on-time despite the fact this was a exceptionally large system with an several large bodies in co-orbital configuration…even where they were at the edge of stellar system.

"Just a sec please." Subconsciously she listened to Parkers raspy voice counting down his power up sequence. A barely audible whine tickled her ears at the same time. It was right. It was going to take us home.

Ripley looked at the wire frame cube on her monitor that represented the entry window they needed to be in. It coincided with a clearance window with all other known space traffic using the shipping lanes. Weyland-Yutani paid for that slot and with the Nostromo travelling a certain rate and speed and path…she would bring the refinery home to Earth ahead of the profit accounting schedule. Time was money. Bonuses for everyone.

For a command trainee to bring it all home ahead-of-time was the type of efficiency that put Ripley in a Warrant spot in the first place. She numbered in a quick calculation that showed up in the plot coordinates. It showed up on the main charting screen.

The calculation inserted itself at the end of Lambert's calculus and went from red numbers to green. It jived with the calculations Lambert was still making, but Lambert erased them anyway without any additional perturbance showing on her face.

Ripley didn't know why. She was a navigator by Weyland-Yutani training as well. Why she wouldn't want the help was beyond her.

"Navigation?" Ripley asked.

No response.

Captain Dallas, for his part offered no input either. He restrained his own inclination to tell Ripley not to push. He _had _to let her command in her own way. That was all he was supposed to do. Watch and evaluate. …and only intervene as necessary to preserve safety AND their precious cargo. But if he had to intervene then Ripley automatically failed.

Dallas turned his head to see Kane looking back at him with a wry grin. In five trips together the Captain and his first officer had never had so much as a contentious disagreement. Dallas took a laissez-faire attitude towards command: If it wasn't broke, he did not fix it. He let everybody do their part and he supervised as laconically as possible.

He had risen to captaincy from engineering by sheer adherence to the company rules and by not risking ANYTHING. He was not ambitious…and you did not need to be. Just have no mistakes on your record…and if luck and timing were on your side Weyland-Yutani would promote from with-in. By his calculation it was better to be calmly steady than eagerly ambitious. He stroked his beard and silently shook his head at Ripley's pushy manner. He nodded at Kane.

"Lambert?"

Though rigid and stubborn Ripley could also adapt and overcome. She swung a look at Dallas who did not return her glance. She didn't appreciate his style of command, but Lambert was _his_ navigator and if he was used to her being inefficient who was she to say anything? Dallas wasn't going to do anything and if she kept on pushing he might rate her as command evaluation negatively.

"We still have 5.25 minutes to make the bonus window," she said pointedly. "Jumping to next station check in sequence…Engineering console?"

Instead of Parker's dark africanic face Brett's weathered visage appeared on Ripley's monitor.

"Yo…" Brett acknowledged. He had intercepted the communications interface session to where he was.

"Why am I not looking at Parker and at you?" Ripley wanted to ask. She bit her tongue

"Hyperdrive status," was all she demanded.

"Man, she can hear me." She could hear and see Parker over Brett's shoulder. And, indeed his voice was echoing through the ship.

"Engines at 60% in 5…4…3…2…1," Parker resumed his power-up count down. Ripley could see h im slowly moving the several engine control sliders forward with methodical coordination as he focused his eyes on multiple gauges. "60% and nominal. Coming forward for 70. Man…tell her to come back to me."

That, also, echoed throughout the ship. Ripley shook her head.

"Parker, give me Engineering status confirmation for departure window." She was doing it by the book and determined to drive everybody crazy.

Brett unnecessarily relayed this message.

"Mr. Parker, the bridge would like Hyperdrive staging confirmation for the bonus window…now, I think."

"Tell Miss Ripley Engineering will be optimal, on schedule, in 1.2 minutes." Parker said evenly without looking over.

"Miss Ripley, the chief Engineer says…" Ripley cut him off with a tapped finger on a mute icon. She did nothing to express her displeasure for the engineers' lack of professionalism. It was Dallas's crew, once again. What could she do? She gave a curt laugh.

"Engineering predicts on schedule," she said moving-on on the checklist. "Science?"

Over in his observation blister Ashe watched on in confusion and damn near panic. He didn't get it, but he did not show it. He did not understand the emotions driving these petty conflicts amongst the humans of the Nostromo. It was a logical loop error. And these errors were piling up in his electronic brain. It wasn't his fault. He was only designed to look like a human, not think like them.

"Science Console standing-by" Ashe replied promptly. He was the model of cooperation and efficiency that Ripley wanted.

"Status check."

"Perfect hyperspace bubble has enveloped vehicle and cargo towage…" Ashe reported. "…and increasing optimally along non-dimensional spatial parameters. No anomalies detected. Science department approves this configuration."

It was the right answer.

However Ashe could not feel it. Not the way the others could feel their interaction with the hyperspatial plane increasing. He did not understand their sensory perceptions. He was not deriving pleasure the way they were. It was all driving him crazy. It was driving him crazy along with all the lying to them. Pretending to be human.

"Science approval at 09:19.213, sidereal time with engines at 70." Ripley checked off. She waited a beat but she wanted to make the window with easy time to spare

"Navigation?"

"Yeah…Plot Console standing-by." Lambert punched several final buttons on her keypad furiously. "Final trajectory and course laid out…accounting for all drift and gravitational influences until outer rim of Solar system." 

The jumble of mathematical formulae invaded alls screens with a green curving line that showed up on the 3-D display as a cooridor into the future and through non-dimensional space. The first part of that line was a lighter shade of green than the rest. Its starting point began in the box of their departure window.

"Navigation…" Ripley began, but Parker chirped in to interrupt her.

"Engineering 'by" he wasn't waiting to be called in order again. Typical Parker. Typical Nostromo. He went on not waiting for acknowledgement. "Hyperdrive at 90% and optimal. Standing by for full thrust and hyperspatial transition with PIC. With ya, Rip"

Now his round head-banded face showed up in her crew interface display with a cool smile. She could tell he was feeling the raw power of his giant reactor system rumbling smoothly throughout his body. He was feeling the anticipation of going faster-than-light. She could feel it too.

"Roger," she said with satisfaction. "Engineering – hyperdive system optimal at 9:21.115 sidereal time. Ready for transit" Almost done with checklist. Ripley turned her attention back to the woman who worked in her own discipline.

"Navigation. An outer celestial body is imperfectly calculated for. Please recalculate."

"It's green," Lambert said briefly.

"Initial point is not in perfect calculation, Lambert" Ripley ran her finger along the slightly pale green first segment of the navigation plot. Even the font of her first computational line was that same slight pale green.

Lambert, for her part, did not even bother to look again. She began to strap herself in for the jump to hyperspace. She took off her headset. She could hear Ripley just fine. Too fine.

"Calculation can not be perfected upon. It is a dust cluster. It is not a factor."

"All bodies must be accurately calculated," Ripley insisted.

"It's at pilot-in-command's discretion. If you want to try refine the plot for that dust…go for it." Lambert challenged. She pressed her back into her astronaut's seat and felt the power of the Nostromo's fusion reactor tingle her spine.

Ripley blinked. Doing a fast calculation in her head she typed it all in rapidly with the number pad next to her throttle quadrant. In a few seconds the initial segment turned the same shade of green as the green line curving into the three dimensional plot into space time. 48.9 seconds in front of the approaching departure 'window'.

"New plot entered and accepted by mother computer," Ripley checked off. "Thank you Navigation."

"Fuck you," Lambert said under her breath. She closed her eyes. She didn't need to see any more. Dallas and Kane shared a glance and laughed. Ashe looked back at the both of them and smiled…but he really didn't get it. Ripley ignored it all. She was going to make this window despite all of them. She keyed the radio.

"This is commercial towing vehicle Nostromo transiting to hyperspace in 15 seconds."

She settled back in her seat and placed her hand on the throttle quadrant.

"Beginning power-up now."

"Right." Parker's voice acknowledged that he was in coordination with her for the power-up of the hyperdrive's final 10%. It wasn't the regulation reply, but it was still good enough at this point.

"5…4…3…2…1" Parker said as he used both hands to glide all the engine sliders smoothly forward. The reactor burned. All his green glowing gauges went from light green to pure white.

Parker gave her the power. Ripley released the potential.

The throttle grips concealed in her fist were methodically moved forward by her

"5…" Nostromo lurched.

"4…" she watched for changes. They all did.

"3…" she sucked in her tummy and took a deep breath.

"2…" stars began to turn into streaks

"1" time and space distorted.

"Hyperspace," she announced. The many white dots of Parker's engine status lights finally turned blue. The hyperdrive was engaged

The Nostromo was at sidereal speed.

She let herself relax and released the throttle quadrant. She breathed deeply.

Dallas nodded with approval. He couldn't have done a better job himself.

"Good job, Ripley." As far as he was concerned she was ready to be the first officer on her own ship.

Down in Engineering Brett reached into a cooler under his seat and tossed his chief a beer.

"Well done, Mr. Parker"

Parker cracked it open with a smile.

"Ha-ha! Thanks, Brett baby"

On the flight deck Ripley confirmed:

"We are inside an inbound cooridor initialized at .381 sidereal seconds ago. We will be inside our system in 8 months 16 days 4:3.4441 hours with-in the early delivery bonus window. Congratulations. You will be rewarded for your efforts. Good job."

The Nostromo floated in space and spun-on into infinity…headed home.


	2. The Loneliness of Space

**The Loneliness of Space**

* * *

_Captains will allow 12 – 24 hours before turning their vessel over to automated flight management and the reduction of last crewmember into hyper-sleep. Final hyper-drive calibrations by engineering and final course corrections (if necessary) by Navigation will be made at this time. __- Section 3 Weyland-Yutani Fleet Regulations_

_Flight crew members registering for the duration of their haul as 'non-celibate' can participate in relations with crew members of their registered 'preferred' gender as needed for crew morale purposes. __- Section 212 Weyland-Yutani Fleet Regulations_

* * *

The crew of the Nostromo was earning their pay by continuing with the mundane task of hauling 20,000,000 metric tons of processing ore back to Earth.

The high of making the jump to hyperspace wore off.

Chief Engineer Parker crawled and squeezed his body though dirty reaction drive induction conduits.

First Officer Kane prepped the hyper-sleep freezers.

Navigator Lambert watched the flight plan progress.

Flight Engineer Brett watched as the hyper-drive display glowed in steady blue gauged perfection.

Captain Dallas, Warrant Officer Ripley and Ashe, a corporate robot disguised as a Science Officer, did a final walkthrough of the non-lethally toxic areas of the refinery. Dallas and Ripley liked the data output coming from the processing computers. Ashe feigned a facsimile of delight.

Everybody went their separate ways for the last few hours.

Dallas conferred with the mother computer and began his write up of an evaluation of Ripley's command skills.

Ripley went to the gym.

Brett caroused with Kane in a showers.

Lambert locked down the bridge

When Parker figured he had done enough to polish the reaction drive he went to clean off. When he found one shower unit occupied he went to another. He cleaned. He dried. He left before the show was even half over. No biggie.

Ripley went to the bridge and passed Lambert as she was leaving. Nothing was said. Ripley looked over all the stations. Finding a harness slightly out of alignment she adjusted it. Now she had to check each and every rig and helmet to make sure they were secure. It was just Ripley's way.

Dallas finished with mother. He grabbed himself a beer and sauntered down to the shuttle, the Narcissus, to sit by himself and listen to music. Jones the cat followed him.

Lambert's cowgirl boots and Parkers soft soled shoes glided along the surface of the Nostromo's garage…a dark brass colored room with an assortment of small planet hopping and crawling vehicles. They danced to music blaring from a tracked excavation vehicle that was technically 'under repair'.

"C'mon, Lambert! Kick it!" The wiry navigator swirled her hips to the beat as she waved her arms in a circular motion over her head. Parker spun himself around and then spun her elaborately.

The music switched to a slower song.

"You wanna go in?" Parker asked.

"Yeahhh," Lambert agreed. He pushed her toward the entry hatch of the excavator and slapped her on the ass when she was halfway in. She punched him on his woolly head.

"Wooo! Smack dat ass! Why do you like using a vehicle?" Parker asked.

"Cuz you can lock the door and no one can walk in on you," Lambert explained. "It's more _secure_."

She plopped down on a futon-like covering of padding and cloth which was where the operators seat should have been. Parker took off his clean shirt and followed her down.

"Ya know, most girls like to find a spot where they can watch the stars," Parker noted. He removed one of her boots and then the other.

"Don't touch my feet, you freak," Lambert goaded. "I hate these stars. They remind me that we're 90, 000 light years from Earth. I hate thinking about that."

"We've spent two months hunting minerals out here," Parker took a breath of the inside of one of the boots. "Hey…I don't mind your foot funk Lammy."

Lambert giggled.

"That's disgusting," she cajoled again. She leaned against the observation bubble of the excavator that looked out on the rest of the garage. "We are so far out. If we went off course and couldn't get the drive working…we'd be lost forever. No one could find us. We are so remote."

"Well, if you promise not to get us lost," Parker began as he stretched and massaged one of Lambert's feet. "I promise I'll keep the hyper-drive kicking."

"You haven't shaved the entire time we've been out here," Lambert complained. "Well…at least you aren't wearing that stupid bandanna now. Come here."

Parker obeyed. He reclined next to Lambert and wrapped a strong arm around her. His 6 foot 4 inch frame fairly swallowed the smallish woman.

"Yeah…no work bandann and fresh out the shower. Jesus," he joked in his raspy voice. "I gotta cuddle BEFORE sex too, now? After is bad enough."

"You WILL provide adequate contact when and where ever you are told to, Mister." Lambert shook a mock stern finger at him. "Weyland-Yutani rules."

"Man," Parker interjected, "You sound just like Rip…"

With a swift motion Lambert swung her hand right over and onto his crotch area.

"Don't you dare! I will rip your balls off, shove them out the airlock and watch them explosively decompress."

"Easy, baby," Parker rumbled cautiously.

And eased…Lambert did. She began to move her hand in a gentle motion. He removed her shirt her pants and undergarment. His beard scratched the inside of her thighs.

They were going full-on by the time Ripley came through the garage bay area. The excavator had a steady rocking motion and she could hear the unmistakable sounds. Ripley was a bit of a voyeur but she liked to listen just as much. She imagined that Parker had Lambert in his preferred position. Ripley imagined Lamberts hands pressed up against the bubble glass and her face down with Parker kneeling behind her. It was hard to tell with the tinted glass on the vehicle.

There would have been no shame if they had been seen, but Ripley didn't want to get caught seeing them. It was more fun that way. She sneaked along the edge of the wall and approached the vehicle from the side. She pressed her ear against the cool rocking metal. She could now hear and feel the activity. She enjoyed hearing Lambert's cries.

"Oh god…Oh god…Oh god!"

Ripley clutched at her own breast.

When they finished she tiptoed away with the flush of excitement on her face. She skipped through the central airlock corridor and slammed a hand on the shuttle passageway to the Narcissus. She strode through and found Dallas in the main acceleration chair as she expected.

She spun him around, removed Jonesey from his lap…and even though he made no effort to get up she held him down and then straddled her legs over him and sat.

"_Now_, Ripley?" Dallas asked sarcastically.

"Uh-huh…" she bit on his neck and shoulder. "You busy?"

Dallas tried to steal a glance at the shuttle's chronometer.

"Bed time's soon." he smiled lazily. Ripley ripped off his white uniform over-shirt and then his t-shirt. She tugged at his chest hair.

"We got time, Captain." She stood up and with a rapid zip slipped out of her dark green flight suit.

When she sat down again on him Dallas ran his hands up under her t-shirt and palmed the softness of her breasts.

"Have you been up to naughty things?" Dallas asked suggestively.

"Yes," she growled. "Ready to take command of the situation?"

Ripley stood up again…removed his pants and sat down upon him again. She gave a shudder.

* * *

Replacement Science Officer Ashe sat by himself and played the ultimate voyeur…a non-participant, but a confirmed watcher. He did NOT understand them. That burned his circuitry just a little bit more.


	3. And Then on to Sleep

**And Then on to Sleep**

* * *

_Deep space towing vehicles are allowed one domesticated animal/mascot for crew morale purposes. Such animal may never leave its ship and cannot be allowed on extra-terrestrial surfaces. Said animal shall be considered an equipment/ward of its vehicle; Its care and maintenance shall be considered a similar responsibility/duty._ _- Section 717 Weyland-Yutani Fleet Regulations_

_In compliance with international law the company and its members shall at no time introduce covert mechanoid surveillance (Robot, android, simulated human, etc) amongst it's workers, members, or crews without prior knowledge and consent of all parties involved__. – Weyland-Yutani Statement of Business Practices, Paragraph 119._

* * *

The Nostromo hung in space. White streaks of light bent themselves around her. She rippled the space/time stream briefly, but did not disturb the whole order. The Nostromo was a wandering traveler that did not want to be a part of their continuum. The towing vehicle adjusted the physics and squeezed though…like a special bit of cosmic quanta. There was nothing the stars could do but let the tug and refinery push on through…on its way home.

In the galley, the crew ate a last meal before hyper-sleep.

Parker had begun to dig ravenously into an assortment of what passed for Chinese food as he joked with Brett on his left. To the right, Lambert ate discriminatorily as she slumped relaxed on the curved bench. She smoked and commented to Kane about Parker's eating habits and Brett's drinking habits.

Jones had a while ago wandered unwanted from the Narcissus and was trying to poke his head up onto the table in hopes of food, but Lambert kept shooing him down so he sat on seat just like everyone else…except he did not have permission to eat.

In between sparing bites of food and sips of beer, Brett displayed his singular talent for music by casually playing and singing folk songs on a harmonica. A guitar sat on the other side of his seat.

Ashe came in and tried to sit down but as he approached Jones went crazy. The yellow tabby arched his back, hissed and batted a paw at Ashe. The cat did not like him.

"Sweet Jesus, Ashe," Lambert noted wryly. "What did you do to that poor cat?"

"Nothing," Ashe replied rapidly. He stood back until Jones calmed down.

"Well…I don't know," Kane said cryptically. "Our normal science officer got on well with Mr. Jones. He doesn't seem to like you."

"Good judge of character," Parker quipped as he scooped some chop suey onto his plate.

Brett stepped-up the tempo of the slow song he had been playing on the harmonica. He paused his playing but tapped his feet to keep the rhythm. He sang:

"Everytime you come on down

Ya betta not kick my kitty a-roun'

It really don't matter that he ain't no hound

You betta not kick my kitty around.

Give us a mewwwww…"

When no one one chimed in with a meow, Brett tried again.

"I said, 'Give us a mewww…'" He then kicked Kane under the table, who realizing that he was intended to participate, howled out a terrible meowing sound that approximated a wounded feline. Lambert and Parker laughed at this.

"You good cat youuuuu…" Brett concluded the song.

"I never kicked this animal," Ashe said truthfully.

Just then Ripley and Dallas, fresh from showering, entered the galley. Jones got up and then alternately wrapped himself around Ripley then Dallas. The captain nearly stumbled.

"Ripley," Dallas said with grumble as he guided the cat towards Ripley with a shove of his foot. "Feed Jones, will ya?"

"He's _your_ cat," Ripley said while scooping up the hapless feline and setting him next to her on the bench.

Everybody ate…including Jones.

"Mother's latest interface with the refinery that we have a rich load minerals getting processed out," Dallas announced. He raised his beer can to the crew "Looks like we will get a bit more bonus off of that. Cheers."

Everyone gave their own versions of gratified gestures.

"MMMmmm," Parker cleared his throat having barely swallowed a gulp of food. "Ya know, it's not too late for you guys to vote Brett and me an equal share of the bonus loot."

"Right," Brett chimed in.

"We can't do that," Ripley said before anyone else could chime in.

"Sure you can," Parker argued.

"Section 13…" Ripley began as Parker groaned. "of fleet regs. 'Early transit bonuses and high enrichment bonuses are to be divided PER department.' If you ship out with an assistant engineer to do all the jobs you don't want to do…then you can just split Engineering's share of the bonuses…WITH HIM."

"See Ripley?" Parker said pointing a fork in her direction. "That's why I think you are a corporate robot."

"Hear hear!" Lambert laughed. She sat up enthusiastically now and took a quick sip of Parker's beer that the engineer did not notice. "Ripley the robot."

"Ripley the robot," Ashe repeated softly while trying to seem only peripherally interested.

"You're too perfect…" Parker continued to list her faults. "You have all the regulations down pat.

You ain't got no heart, baby. No heart."

"Can you believe this shit?" Ripley said, looking over at Dallas.

"Following the rules makes her an android?" Dallas gave Parker an amused laugh.

"Well…how do we know they didn't sneak a corporate robot in on us. Companies have been caught doing that before, ya know." Parker now grasped to make the unlikely sound reasonable. "I mean, like, what happened to the Warrant we were supposed to have? Didn't she come on at the last second?"

"And?" chuckled Dallas. "So she's a last minute replacement. It happens all the time. They replaced our normal science officer too. Ashe is a robot too? Your losing your mind out here, Parker. Pass me some of that. What is that supposed to be? Chop suey?"

"So does she pass to the next level, skipper?"

"Well…that's up to her to divulge," Dallas evaded. "But I think she did pretty well…don't you?"

"Oh yeah. She's got the whole book memorized."

"There's more than that," Ripley protested.

"What?"

"Leadership, crew coordination, ethics, ship operations, cargo responsiblilities, emergency scenarios…"

"She passed all that?" Brett asked and winked at Parker

"Flying colors," Dallas confirmed.

"What's an emergency scenario?" Lambert asked.

"What to do if the hyper-drive is running out of control and the ship is about to collide with an inhabited system."

Lambert had to think about this for a sec.

"So what's the answer?"

"Take the coolant system off line and gave the shuttle going in 5 minutes..." Ripley made an exploding gesture with her fingers and hand. "Right Engineering?"

"You should have 10 minutes before she blows completely," Parker decided to field this rhetorical question. "But you have until 5 minutes to change your mind. After that the engine will be hypercritical and the chain reaction to destruction will be unstoppable. So you have something like 5 minutes from there."

"What if someone is left onboard?"

"That's an ethics question," Ripley informed.

"Sort of like…" Ashe interjected, "If you can only save one of your crewmates whose life do you save…whose life do you risk?"

"If you gotta get out," Parker noted. "You gotta get out. Those are every man for himself scenarios."

"No, Parker," Ripley tssked. "Like if we crashed in the water back on Earth and we are in shark infested waters. There's a shark between a crew member let's say, Lambert, and a lifeboat. And she's struggling can barely keep her head up in the water. And she can't think straight because that shark fin is coming straight at her. Do you risk yourself to get to get that crewman away from the shark?"

"I don't know," Parker looked thoughtfully. "If I have a way to be safer in the lifeboat myself first? I am headed for it."

"Yeah…but wouldn't that leave your crewmate, ME, defenseless to a shark?" Lambert prodded. "What would you do then? You wouldn't try to rescue?

"If you ain't got sense to get away from a shark, baby…I'm outta there."

Lambert hurled a packet of synthetic cornbread at his head.

"Pig!"

They laughed. They continued to eat. They chatted a little about what they would do with their monies once they got home, but despite the somberness of the prospect of heading into the death like stasis of hyper-sleep they were all ready to go to bed. After 67 continual working days together they had had enough. There was nothing new that anyone could say over a meal…there was no conversation that had not already been broached. Close to a year already out in space. Now, close to nine months to go back. Enough time to have a baby.

Two years is a long time to spend away from your homeworld.

* * *

The hyper-sleep chambers were arranged like the petals of the flower or the rays of a sun. Each person slept with his head toward the middle.

Ripley hugged her robe around herself and shuffled across the chamber floor on slippered feet.

She went around the individual hypersleep chambers. Parker's lid was just closing, but she could tell he was already asleep because of his snoring. Brett's and Ashe's chambers were closed but they were just sleeping still. They weren't under deep enough yet to start the freezing stasis yet. Lambert's chamber interior glowed an eerie green; she was in hypersleep.

"You ready for beddy-bye, Ripley?" Kane asked as he came in behind her from the door way.

Ripley had come to Dallas' bed. He was asleep but his glass lid had not closed yet. With him down that left Kane essentially in command.

"Yes, I am," Ripley said. "Dallas?"

No response. Ripley tapped a few buttons and the glass came down slowly over him.

"Good night," she said to him.

She unabashedly removed her robe and gently folded it and placed on the floor next to her bed. She placed two wireless diagnostic electrodes on her chest and one at the rear edge of her skull. A read-out next to her chamber immediately began to register her as 'Alive Conscious Animated'.

"Do you want me to close you up or do you want mother to do it?" Kane offered.

"I'll let mother do it."

Ripley unlike some people had no fear of going into hyper-sleep. She didn't have fears about malfunctions, or not waking up, or being frozen to death…or any of those paranoid worries.

"Okay," Kane replied. "Good night, Ripley. See you in 3/4ths of a year."

She saw him climb into bed. She climbed into her chamber and took luxuriated in the soft glow of the off-white room.

"Yeah…see ya." Whichever of them fell to sleep last would technically be in command all alone until they themselves fell asleep.

She pushed a button on an internal side panel…and her glass lid slowly came down.

"Put me in stasis when I fall asleep, mother."

"Confirmed," the neutral voice of The Nostromo's central computer responded. "Hyper-sleep cryonosis proceeding after theta-wave sleep acquired."

Ripley could feel the tug of drowsiness begin already. It worked like a charm for her.

"Goodnight, mother," Ripley said almost unconscious.

"Goodnight, Ripley."

…And Ripley tumbled deeply into sleep, and into those comforting dreams about the cool green hills of mother Earth.

The Nostromo flew-on.

…and her seven children slept deeply-on...safely under the comforting watch of their corporate mother.


End file.
